Three Lost Queens
by Dan Sickles
Summary: All of Henry's women are lost, abandoned and forsaken. What do they dream of? A short, moody story to start the New Year. Rated T for implied sexuality.
1. Chapter 1

THREE LOST QUEENS

_All of Henry's women are lost, doomed by his selfish commands. Will the dream ever end? Please comment nicely!_

All the talk says that Jane is the good girl, the sweet and unsuspecting innocent who has captured the king's roving eye.

"Gentle Jane," Anne Boleyn scoffs, drinking deeply from a goblet of strong red wine. "She looks so demure and pure and unspoiled. But I wonder what would happen if . . . what would happen if . . ."

Listening from outside the chamber with her ear against the door, Lady Mary Tudor feels sick to her stomach. Her friends at court have all abandoned her, and the ladies who wait upon the new queen are quite cruel. Lady Jane is the one exception to the rule.

"Mary!" the gentle blonde says, setting down her needlework with a smile. Lady Jane has blue eyes and they light up the room when the king's neglected daughter rushes into her chamber.

"My lady, you must leave the court at once! I heard the wicked queen plotting with her brother to . . . to murder you." Mary is tired from running and all out of breath, so her story tumbles out in a confusing jumble, broken up by gasps and frightened cries.

"Deep in the woods . . . three or four men . . . they mean to pull you from your coach and hack you to pieces!"

"But why would I go riding deep in the woods?" Lady Jane makes the king's daughter sit down close by the fire and fixes her a strong cup of tea. "Lady Mary, you have a true and loving heart and I will forever cherish our friendship. But you must learn to ignore the wild rumors that fly around the court."

"This is no rumor," Mary grumbles, sipping her soothing hot tea with a frowning face. It has been ages since anyone took the time to comfort her with kind words and a cup of tea.

"Perhaps Queen Anne was talking of her own affairs," Lady Jane suggests softly. She watches Mary drink her tea and then covers her with a thick wool blanket woven by her own hands. "Anne likes to travel in her royal coach, and she's not afraid of anything. Not even wicked highwaymen lurking in the woods at night!"

"She said they'd be waiting in the forest," Mary murmurs. The warm fire and the steaming hot tea are making her drowsy.

"Yes, well there you are then. I'm sure she's planning a trip and is taking every precaution." Lady Jane sounds very brisk and alert as she tidies up her little chamber, her slim hands quick and sure. "Oh, dear, that reminds me, I need to speak with the queen about some cloaks I've been mending for her guards. You don't mind keeping the place safe till I return, do you Mary dear?"

"Yes mama!" Mary has somehow gotten Lady Jane Seymour mixed up with her mother, the true queen. Katherine of Aragon is dead, but for a moment Mary Tudor feels as though her loving presence is all around her. She falls asleep with a peaceful sigh.

Meanwhile Lady Jane is walking towards the queen's chamber, determined to give the wicked Anne Boleyn a piece of her mind. But before she can reach her goal King Henry VIII intercepts her progress, seizing the opportunity to embrace her in the dark hall.

"No, Your Majesty! You can't . . . we mustn't . . ." Words of protest dwindle and die as Jane's firm resolve melts in the king's arms. Henry's kiss kindles a fire in her veins, heating her blood so that virtuous pleas soon give way to weak moans and willing sighs.

Alone in her opulent chamber, Anne Boleyn drains the rest of her wine, throwing aside the goblet with disgust. Her plotting and planning are useless, and she knows it. Henry has moved on. But at least she can have her vengeance. Slumped in her tall chair, the despairing queen pictures the cruel highwaymen in the forest. She sees them plucking the innocent lady from her coach and ravishing her with rough hands, over and over and over again.

Anne knows that Jane Seymour deserves just such a fate. But she can't seem to speak out. Her wits are fuddled by wine. Instead of firing her passions, the wine makes her want to forget vengeance, abandon all her cruel schemes and simply sleep. Anne drags herself from the tall chair and falls on the royal bed. But in her dreams she sees herself in the lady's place.

And all of the highwaymen look just like Henry.


	2. Doing It All

_Chapter Two: Doing It All_

Everyone was walking on tiptoes the next morning, frightened because Queen Anne had awoken in a foul mood.

"What's the matter with that woman now?" The king demanded. Henry was all dressed up to go hunting, and he looked very young and strong and handsome as he admired himself in the big tall mirror in the hall.

"Her Majesty is tired, and has a slight headache," whispered Jane Seymour. The pretty blonde lady-in-waiting sank into a deep curtsey, unintentionally enticing the king's eye with both her slim and graceful figure and the round fullness of her beautiful breasts.

"Oh dear me, Anne must have drunk too much wine again." The king laughed as he pulled shy Jane to her feet, taking her small, ice-cold hands in his large and warm ones. "Lady Jane, I order you to take especially good care of my queen today. I want Anne to rest quietly in her chamber and recover from her headache."

"Yes, Your Majesty." A whole day stuck indoors with the cranky queen. Poor Jane couldn't help it. She pouted in disappointment.

"I expect Anne to be sleeping when I return from the hunt," Henry said sternly. But his eyes were warm and unmistakably inviting. He kissed Jane's lips and a spark or something seemed to pass between them. "You shall have your reward later. Do you understand, my sweet?"

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

"You're awfully damned cheerful this morning." Anne Boleyn growled as her sweet but simple new lady-in-waiting drew back the curtains and let a flood of sunlight into the royal bedchamber.

"Oh, Your Majesty, it's much too nice a day to be lying in bed," Jane Seymour exclaimed. "Let's go outside and walk in the sun!"

Anne still had a headache, and she didn't have much use for exercise even at the best of times. But the golden-haired beauty with the big boobs and the winning smile seemed determined to make her enjoy the fine weather and exert herself. The two of them took a long walk in the park, and they also rowed on the lake and tried a little bit of lawn tennis. Anne actually rolled up her sleeves to show Jane the finer points of the game.

"You want to grip your racket with both hands, like this," the queen said gruffly. Putting her arms around Jane's slim waist and guiding her hands, she modeled the perfect serve several times.

"Your Majesty, you are so clever at sports! So beautiful and clever!"

Anne didn't like feeling dirty and sweaty, so when they got back to her chamber Jane ordered lunch for the two of them and then she ordered a tub of hot water to be set up right next to the fire.

"Mm, that feels good," the queen said, closing her eyes with a sigh as Jane Seymour rubbed sweet-scented soap all over body. "Why don't you climb into the tub with me?"

"Oh, no, Your Majesty! I couldn't . . . I mean I shouldn't . . ." Jane blushed as her clumsy fingers accidentally flicked Anne's nipples under the water. Her own nipples felt a bit sore all of a sudden.

"Climb in," Anne commanded, in a gruff voice that hypnotized Jane and sent inexplicable shivers all up and down her spine. Without really meaning to, Jane found herself undressing at once.

It was late in the afternoon by the time King Henry returned from the hunt. He was hot and tired and he wanted pretty little Jane Seymour to strip off his clothes and give him a thorough scrub. But first he wanted to make sure the coast was clear, so he went to the queen's chambers and knocked very gently on the door.

"Come in," called a rather lazy and satisfied female voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Henry scowled at the sight of Queen Anne reading in bed, freshly scrubbed and glowing.

"This is my bed, remember?" Anne put down her book and stretched, showing off a lithe and boyish figure that was somehow even more enticing than Jane's generous curves.

"What have you done to her?" Henry looked at Jane, who was lying spent beside the queen, asleep and clearly oblivious to it all.

"Everything," Anne replied, with a pert little toss of her head. "Just about everything a woman could possibly desire. I did it all."

"Get out of that bed," Henry snarled, fighting to control his fierce desire. "Get up and get some clothes on. Right now!"

"Certainly," Anne chirped, rising from the bed. "Are we going to do it in the park, Henry? Or up in the tower? What about the stables, where we can roll in filthy straw and smell horse piss?"

"All of it," Henry choked. "I want all of it. I want all of _you_. Now!"

There were kisses, and a curse or two, as Anne quickly dressed. Then the two of them ran from the chamber, hand in hand.

Jane Seymour didn't even hear them leave.


End file.
